The sky above the Northern Frost Palace had turned black at noon.
Not clouds. Not night.
Just pure, light-devouring black, as though the heavens themselves had frozen and shattered.
Nine black lotuses, each the size of a mountain, floated in perfect symmetry above the nine inverted peaks.
Each petal burned with a different manifestation of the Nine Nether Frostflame. The first seven lotuses pulsed slowly, already revealed. The eighth and ninth remained closed, hiding their true terror.
Luo Xinghan stood at the center of the formation, suspended a thousand zhang above the Heavenly Sword Platform. His cloak had become living frostflame—black on the outside, white on the inside, edges bleeding crimson light. Half his hair was pure white, half ink-black. His eyes were twin abysses spinning in opposite directions.
Below, every surviving elder and ancestor of the Northern Frost Palace knelt in the snow, meridians sealed by a single glance. Only Bai Qingyao remained standing. Sword discarded, arms hanging limp. Tears had frozen into tiny black lotuses on her cheeks.
Luo Xinghan lifted his right hand. The eighth lotus slowly opened.
Eighth Form — Abyss Sovereign's Remembrance.
No flame. No frost. Only absolute silence, so perfect that the concept of sound itself died.
Across the entire Northern Domain, every cultivator, mortal, beast, and spirit experienced the same memory at the same instant:
Luo Wuxie's final moment.
The sword sliding between his ribs.
Bai Qingyao's tears falling onto his chest.
Elders laughing as they carved out his Supreme Frost Constitution.
His best friend absorbing his Dao Fruit while whispering, "Thank you for the gift."
Ten billion souls experienced his death. Ten billion souls screamed.
In cities, people clawed out their own eyes. In sects, ancestors coughed blood and fell from the sky. Even heavenly tribulation clouds forming above distant immortals reversed course, striking their masters instead.
The Northern Frost Palace's grand array shattered into black snow. Bai Qingyao dropped to her knees, vomiting black blood that froze into tiny screaming faces.
She looked up, lips trembling.
"I… remember now," she whispered. "Every second of your pain… I feel it…"
Luo Xinghan's expression did not change. He lifted his left hand.
The ninth and final lotus began to open.
Before the last petal could unfold, space tore open like wet paper. A second presence descended.
A woman stepped out of the void. Crimson robes embroidered with nine blood phoenixes. Hair the color of fresh blood cascaded to her ankles. Eyes golden, vertical pupils like an ancient beast. Her beauty was violent, predatory, the kind that made men kneel and women tear out their own hearts in envy.
Behind her floated a crimson coffin bound by nine black chains. Every elder paled.
The Crimson Asura Palace's Holy Daughter, Xue Wuxin. The only demonic sect in the Nine Continents daring to rival the righteous immortal domains.
Xue Wuxin tilted her head, golden eyes fixed on Luo Xinghan.
"Interesting," she murmured, voice like blood sliding over silk. "Someone finally awakened a complete Nine Nether Frostflame. And in my favorite color too."
She waved one hand. The crimson coffin opened. Nine blood phoenixes soared out, screaming, each at the peak of Soul Transformation. They circled Luo Xinghan once, then knelt in the sky, wings folded, heads bowed.
Xue Wuxin smiled, revealing sharp canines.
"My lord father, the Crimson Asura Emperor, invites the new Frost Demon Sovereign to the Blood Sea Styx for a banquet," she purred. "Or a wedding. He is flexible."
Bai Qingyao's head snapped up. Black frostflame erupted from her body, her suppressed demonic constitution awakening after ten thousand years of guilt and Luo Xinghan's influence. She rose into the air, sword reappearing, now stained black.
"He is mine to kill," she hissed, voice layered with ten thousand screaming ghosts. "Mine to hate. Mine to love. No one else touches him."
Xue Wuxin laughed, bright and cruel.
"Possessive little lotus. How adorable." She flicked a finger. A single drop of blood flew toward Bai Qingyao, transforming mid-flight into a blood phoenix the size of a mountain.
Bai Qingyao met it with her sword. Black frostflame collided with crimson bloodfire. The explosion cracked the Heavenly Sword Platform in half.
Luo Xinghan watched them fight, expression unchanged. Mo Cangqiong's voice rumbled inside his soul, amused.
"Two flowers blooming for the same corpse. Entertaining."
Finally, Luo Xinghan spoke. His voice carried across the entire domain, soft, yet every soul felt it in their bones.
"Xue Wuxin."
The Holy Daughter paused mid-attack, golden eyes gleaming.
He continued:
"Tell your father the invitation is accepted."
Xue Wuxin's smile widened.
"But the banquet… will be held here."
He opened his left hand completely. The ninth lotus finished blooming.
Ninth Form — Eternal Frost Demon Sovereign's Descent.
No light. No darkness. Only absolute, perfect winter. The sky froze. The earth froze. Time itself crystallized into black ice.
Every living being in the Northern Domain saw the same vision:
A throne of ten thousand frozen immortals.
A crown of nine black lotuses dripping blood.
A dragon with nine hundred and ninety-nine heads coiled around the throne.
And seated upon it, a sovereign with one half divine, one half abyss.
The vision lasted one heartbeat. When reality returned, the entire Northern Frost Palace had vanished. Only a colossal black lotus remained, floating above the glacier, petals slowly closing.
Inside the lotus, three figures stood on a petal the size of a continent:
Luo Xinghan at the center.
Bai Qingyao on his left, sword broken, black frostflame coiling like chains.
Xue Wuxin on his right, crimson coffin open, nine blood phoenixes kneeling behind her.
The two women stared at each other with pure murder.
Luo Xinghan looked down at the closing petals. His voice was almost gentle.
"Ten thousand years ago, I had one woman who betrayed me." He turned slowly, first to Bai Qingyao, then to Xue Wuxin.
"Now I have two who want to own me."
The black lotus sealed shut. Darkness swallowed everything.
From within the sealed lotus, his final words echoed across the Nine Continents, carried by frostflame that would never melt:
"Let the heavens bear witness."
"I will make both of you kneel."
"And I will decide which one dies first."
Far away, in the Crimson Asura Palace, an ancient voice that had not spoken in three eras laughed until the Blood Sea boiled.
The game had finally begun.